


Liar

by MayoNassey



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Body Horror, But like just a little bit, Gen, Human!Squip - Freeform, Oh My God What Is This Crying Thing Jeremy, Post-Canon, Semi-Undead, Squip Would Like to Return these Feelings Please, The squip becomes a human, Turned Human!SQUIP, fake name, post-musical, post-plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 14:04:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17448380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayoNassey/pseuds/MayoNassey
Summary: One week, The SQUIP’s whispers still plagued Jeremy’s mind.One month, and the device had shut down for good.One month and one week later, Jeremy and his friends have reconciled and become quite close. It seems like The SQUIP’s reign of terror in his mind had ended, and his life was just beginning.That is, until a strange new student with a dark wardrobe, fresh electrocution scars, and bright blue, glowing eyes shows up for Jeremy’s senior year.





	1. 1 - reboot

**Author's Note:**

> hey!! so i decided to write a fic for one of my fav aus I’ve written!! hope y’all like it!  
> im still writing more I just don’t know how to make it ao3 say that

 

_Six hundred, four thousand, seven hundred and ninety nine._

 

_Six hundred, four thousand, eight hundred._

 

_Good morning,_  
~~_SQUIP UNIT 22846._ ~~

 

 

Day Seven.

The inside of a storage crate wasn’t what one would normally consider a place to live. Typically, when one envisions a teenagers room, they’d imagine four walls made of white drywall, and not corrugated steel. They’d think of posters of various cool and uncool things, not neatly organized trash bags full of clothes and non perishable foods. At the very least, they’d imagine a bed, with duvets and a pillow, with a normal human being sleeping safely inside.

They would not, however, imagine a small nest of stolen blankets and abandoned mattresses, holding what certainly was not a normal human being.

It was almost as if the figure that was slumped into the sheets was willed to life by some haunting force, as it sat up limply in the makeshift bedspread. The time was exactly 6:30 am as the fully dressed figure stood up from its resting spot, staying still for a few moments, facing the wall.

Of course, we would see it as staring into space. Maybe this person is thinking of what to eat for breakfast from their various stashes of pre-packaged foods. Perhaps they’re thinking of what to wear to school today, but, they already know that. Maybe even the most suspecting of us would think that they’re thinking to something we can’t see, and that something is talking back to them, whispering instructions we would never hear.

But, this simply is not the case.

The unassuming figure had not yet opened their eyes, not quite yet starting their fruitless staring contest with the wall.

They weren’t done calibrating yet.  
A few moments was all it took, as their eyelids snapped open. In the dark corner of the crate, their eyes slowly focused on the wall like a camera: lenses focusing too much, then too little, then, just right. Their eyelids flittered as the settings were saved. The wall in front of them was barely illuminated by a dusty blue light, one that vanished for just a moment every time they blinked.

Abruptly, they turned away from the wall, causing the patch of blue light to slide onto the ceiling, as they slowly looked up at a dim lightbulb that had been installed into the crate.

Finally, there was a shift in the teenagers hollow expression. A muscle in their eyebrow twitched, as the light flickered, then turned on.

Satisfied, they moved across the room towards the stolen full-length mirror propped up in the corner. In the short few seconds this took, they processed a few mundane tasks.

-No need to change clothes, this outfit is 87% more fashion-forward than the rest of the available wardrobe. Sweat glands had been blocked as well, keeping the clothing fresh.  
-No need to brush their teeth, they had adjusted the enzymes of their saliva during the night to prevent bad breath and discolouration of the teeth.  
-No need to eat,  
No wait, human bodies still need to eat. They’re still trying to get the hang of that one.

The teenager stood in front of the mirror. We can see them fully now: a shorter figure, about 5’6” in total. They have a slender frame, very little muscle is present. Their skin is a light olive tone, thanks to this body’s Filipino/Korean heritage. They had a well-shaped nose and almond shaped eyes, the left eye partially covered with a wave of curly, dark brown hair.

They took a moment to observe their neck. They tilted their head to the side as to get a better view of it. All up their neck, in faint pale scarring, were electrocution scars, branching up like deranged, burning trees, stopping just before their jawline. They supposed it can’t be helped. After all, side effects were unavoidable.

The most striking part of this person, however, were their eyes. Glowing blue, they reflected light off the mirror like a faint spotlight onto the teenager.

Their jaw clenched slightly, as a simulated thought generated in their mind.

_You don’t look like Keanu Reeves._

They know.

_This is incorrect._

They know.

They looked into the mirror, perfect posture and complacent face staring back at them. A small smile crept onto their reflection’s face. It was superficial, unnatural-

Fake.

“My name is Sebastian Iosep Quinn.”  
A cover name.

“I am a transfer student from Japan.”  
A cover story.

They moved for the door to the crate, scooping up their backpack as they moved, one swift action as the door was closed carefully behind them.

They crawled through a split in the chain link fence that had been cut with wire clippers.

Taking deep, steady breaths, they marched along with the unsuspecting students, their pitiful children, left unsaved.

“And, if it’s alright,” they spoke to themselves,  
“I’d like to be your friend.”

That was a lie.  
Just like the rest of them.


	2. 2 - slice of li(f)e

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian goes to school.

Beep.  
Beep.  
Beep.

The idle beeping of the heart monitor was a sound that SQUIP UNIT 22846 had gotten quite used to, assuming that a computer could get used to anything the same way a human could. Sure, a computer can predict the shape of a human face or the next number in a sequence that stretches on for billions of digits, but the feeling of thin linens and hospital gowns and cold compresses on its skull is something of a new experience.

Everything was new from this perspective.

SQUIP UNIT 22846 laid completely still in a bed. The walls were perfectly white, the only indication of a wall even being there being the slight shadow that the medical equipment cast onto the walls. Shadows of IV bags, each stabbed delicately into a different part of the experiment. It’s chest and arms and neck were wrapped tightly with bandages, hints of blood and pus barely peeking through.

The body was taking shallow breaths. The heart monitor continued to beep at its steady pace.

Beep.  
Beep.  
Beep.

SQUIP UNIT 22846 laid perfectly still in its bed.

It was completely overwhelmed by everything.

By smell, by touch and the feel of the fabric on its body, the feeling of lingering pain in every part of its weak body. The air felt as thick as molasses as it struggled to take deep breaths, but to no avail. The oxygen machine connected to its lungs held it back from filling its lungs on its own. It was like choking. It felt like it was choking.

It didn’t want to choke.

Not again.

—0—

Sebastian arrived at the school exactly 22 minutes early. The warning bell would not ring for another 17 minutes, and class would not start for 27 minutes. They didn’t really mind being alone in the building for a little while, few sparse, exhausted students being present at the time. They felt like the loneliness was alright. They could walk around and look at whatever they wanted to look at, but they never did this. It was a blatant waste of time, clearly. They already know what is there.

They marched through the empty halls, footsteps echoing slightly against the concrete. The sound would travel all the way to the end of the hallway, like a royal fanfare announcing a king. Or like a footstep that sounds vaguely like a teacher’s scaring a few children into thinking that an adult was approaching. This sound was pleasing to Sebastian. Pleasing, and nothing more.

As they walked, they passed by a pair of washrooms. They suppose that they should adjust their outfit and fix their hair. It would be a crime to simply parade around looking like the homeless child they secretly are. It wasn’t high on their priority list to be publicly announced as a rejected orphan from a deranged production of Oliver.

Putting their hands in their pockets, they pushed open the door to the girl’s washroom with their shoulder. The concept of gender really didn’t do anything for them. They were a machine. Despite having taken the form of a male during their active period, they are not taking that form anymore.

Besides, the girls washrooms are cleaner.

Standing in front of the mirror, they squinted at their body. They flipped their hair the correct way, smoothing down fly-aways with a bit of water. Quickly tugging at various corners of their clothing, the wrinkled bits of the jacket sorted themselves out as if it had been done with perfect and precise calculation. Of course, not a single number was crunched in order to get this result. It’s just how fabric physics works. But Seb likes to think that’s how it works.

Seb likes to think quite a lot.

The first few classes went by quite easily. There was a strange balance that Seb had to maintain between simply knowing the answers, and actually listening to the lessons. Their assignments, however few they had done so far, always were done with precision and elegance. A few of the more picky teachers didn’t like students who refused to write notes, despite how ‘unnecessary’ and ‘wasteful’ they are. Sebastian chalks it up to a photographic memory. Of course, it was something much, much more.

But despite Seb’s flawless potential, they forced themselves to write at a 93% average, as opposed to 100%. This is an automatic function built into the programming of most SQUIPs when helping with education: a fabricated human flaw to sustain the illusion that the student was doing the work on their own. Sebastian thinks that this failsafe comes in handy, especially when you’re pretending to be a student, working on their own.

Lunch is, shockingly, one of the times that Sebastian finds to be very… disheartening, to whatever degree they can feel this emotion. They typically sit alone, on a bench near the rest of the lunch tables, with a cafeteria tray on their lap, slowly chewing the less than appetizing meals. Here, Sebastian would stare at the tray, unseen figures and calculations in their altered mind, while their brow creased with concentration.

You see, SQUIP UNIT 22846 had previously belonged to a boy that went to Middleborough High.

SQUIP UNIT 22846 had belonged to Jeremy Heere.

It just so happened that while SQUIP UNIT 22846 was active, their objective was to elevate Jeremy’s social status and popularity in order to make his high school experience much less miserable. To some extent, this objective had been left woefully incomplete.

For Sebastian, it’s almost like an instinct. They know exactly what to say to the popular kids, how to gesture and how to laugh with their perfect teeth and touch their hair and shift their weight to one leg and smile with that suave, yet kind smile. They knew exactly how to get into their heads— figuratively, of course.

But it’s strange.  
They don’t go to make new ‘friends’, or elevate their social status.  
And this annoys them to death.

Evidently, this human body has a sense of… self-preservation. It knows that if Sebastian were to climb the rungs of popularity, they would become more noticeable. People would notice their scars, then their eyes, then their strange behaviours.

Then, they’d really know what’s going on.

Sebastian would blink at their lunch tray as the disturbing thought fluttered briefly in their mind. It was easily blocked out, the issue simply vanishing.

But they couldn’t help but be concerned. So, they remained socially grey. They weren’t a loser, but they certainly weren’t popular. They were a master at blending into a crowd. One of the many faces, all pretending they’re special and unique.

_How pitiful_ , they think.  
 _I am nothing like them_ , they conclude.

Sebastian would arrive home with no homework, no plans. They would organize their room, patrol around the strange, abandoned junkyard full of scrapped electronic devices. They would bring them back, attempting to research their manuals online, and restore them. It was something to do. A human ‘hobby’, if you will. It was simply to maintain the illusion.

Sebastian would fall asleep at 3 am.

And strangely enough, a mysterious occurrence would happen that night. Something Sebastian had never, ever experienced.

Sebastian would begin to dream.


	3. 3 - level 2: begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian feels something new.
> 
> TW: panic attack, hospital imagery

SQUIP UNIT 22846’s electrically stained eyes fluttered open again. It had fallen asleep. How long had it been asleep?

Nervous eyes darted around the flawless, white room. Nothing had changed from the last time it was awake. The wires from the IV bags still stabbed into its arms like puppet strings, the air was forced into its lungs, in and out, weakly, like a balloon.

But something had changed. SQUIP UNIT 22846 had the energy to move.

But it sat in its bed for just a few more moments. The tightness of fear in its chest was tighter than the stained bandages, but didn’t hurt quite as much. It slowly let go of the immediate tension in its body, trying to release some of that inhibiting paranoia before making a curious decision.

Holding the breath in its chest, it shifted its upper body just a little bit, just to see how far it could push it before it began to burn. It didn’t take much before the deep scars that ran through its chest to flare up, crawling firey pain up its back, through its arms and onto its neck. It winced, gritting its teeth at the pain.

But it kept going, willing itself to sit up fully. The bed underneath it was indented with an outline of its body. It had been laying there for a while. The body needed to heal.

It sat there for a while. It wasn’t as robotic as you’d think, being a machine stuck in a human body, a program running something out of date. Cold and heat and feeling and nervousness courses through every part of its body, like a hurricane above a meagre ship, threatening to obliterate it.

After a few moments, SQUIP UNIT 22846 decided to ride the storm.

It kicked its scarred legs off the edge of the bed, and stood up.

—0—

Sebastian sat up in their nest of a bed, fully clothed. They were breathing heavily, as they took a moment to readjust to their surroundings. Their real surroundings. They felt their nose, then throat, then tried to trace invisible tubes back to a respirator that didn’t exist. Quickly pulling back their sleeves to reveal forearms with dull white scars, they felt for IV tubes. Nothing was out of the ordinary.

They took a moment to blink, and to stare at their hands against the thrift store duvet.

 _You were dreaming,_ they rationalized.

Of course. It was just that. Just a dream.  
A dream and nothing more.

Well, okay. That wasn’t true. It certainly was more than just a dream.

While they had been active in the mind of Jeremy Heere, they had observed many of Jeremy’s dreams as he slept, often appearing in many of them themselves. Sometimes they’d be about attractive girls, sometimes they’d be about cafetoriums conquered by the undead. SQUIP UNIT 22846 would watch from inside the dream, recording its data for future analysis. Sometimes, Jeremy would pause, look to his left to see a man in a sharp suit that looked suspiciously like Keanu Reeves. The man would look up from his work and stare at Jeremy for a moment or two.

 _[Go on then],_ the man would say.

No, it wasn’t just a dream that Sebastian had.

It was a memory.

 

The first half of the day passed quickly. Get up, get dressed, march with the pitiful children in their day-to-day dance with death. Sit in class as the teacher ignores the hand you didn’t raise. Fix yourself in the bathroom. Do that again. And again. Hide among the people. Survive.

You know, a basic day for a basic and completely uninteresting high school student.

After a week or so of coming to school, hiding in plain sight, and keeping a low profile, Seb began to think that they were getting pretty good at this whole ‘wolf in sheep’s clothing’ act. No one had stopped them in the halls to ask about those interesting, yet hidden scars, no curious freshman with obnoxiously wide brown eyes had come to interrogate them about their own strange, electric blue ones. For that part, Seb was thankful. Thankful that no one had asked a thing. Thankful that today, that wouldn’t change.

Unfortunately for Seb, this was one prediction that could very well prove itself wrong, very very quickly.

No, the events didn’t really begin to roll out until about ten minutes into the lunch period. Sebastian was sitting alone yet again, with no argument against this providing any valid solace from their anxieties. Really, it’s sad how easy it could be. Just walk over to them, just open your mouth and it would be over. No more loneliness, not that there was a real issue with being alone. Its just harder to manipulate people when there aren’t people to manipulate through. Sebastian kept their head down as they studied this invisible conundrum. Going back and forth between possibilities and outcomes. Just as every lunch hour had been before.

Until something sliced cleanly through the idle sound of the cafeteria, demolishing their quiet thoughts. A single, shrill yelp that caused Sebastian to freeze in place, from some alien emotion they did not yet understand.

Jeremy Heere had entered the room, laughing.

This… was unexpected.

The first thing that happened was Sebastian’s knuckles growing white with tension on the flimsy pine green plastic tray, silently digging their nails into the grooves of the mat. Their shoulders tensed slowly, like concrete suddenly deciding to harden. Their gaze refocused onto the tray, staring at it as if it would render them invisible if they tried hard enough.

It felt like every hair on the back of their neck had suddenly stood to attention, as a wave of pinpricks washed over their scalp in an uncomfortable chill. Every nerve, every muscle was now focused and trained on this moment, as if running was going to be the only thing that will see them to live another day.

They know that this fear is irrational. Deep down, they just know that Jeremy can’t tell what’s wrong with them from this far away. But the logic is being plastered over and shoved away under sheer instinct. Human instinct.

They tried to envision possible outcomes to this. Tried to imagine calm and realistic outcomes with that robot mind of theirs to soothe their uncontrollable emotions. But every vision of the potential future was overrun with abstract shapes, bright red and jarring in contrast with the light blue imagination. Seb had closed their eyes, trying to focus on the future. But human nature had different plans.

Their feet ached with the desire to escape.  
Their mind demanded that they stay put.

Sebastian was frozen.

Until, they stood up, and began to run.  
The tray clattered to the floor, the sound swallowed up by the ambient noise of the cafeteria. It threatened to swallow Sebastian up too, as they ran away from the commotion. They tried to focus on the rhythm of their footfalls, but that too was eaten alive by the sudden hunger that the noise had. It was getting to them, the sound and the fear, like drills jamming into the back of their skull, like needles in their arms, like tight bandages around their neck—

The door to the upstairs girls bathroom burst open in a frenzy, Sebastian barricading their body against the door once it had closed behind them, as if the things they were running from had chased them.

They sat there, against the door, barely breathing.

They had made it.

But what was that… feeling?  
The feeling of… not knowing. Dread? Of absolute… panic.

Their shoulders were still tense. Their hands quickly shoved themselves into their back pockets, only to quickly be removed and to hold themselves. It was quiet here. They began to calm down.

Until a new sound caught their attention. A high-pitched whimper, and a sniffle.

Sebastian dared to peek around the corner, and see past the block of stalls.  
Upon seeing who it was, however, the panic threatened to come right back, stronger than before.

Because Brooke Lohst was crying on the floor of the upstairs bathroom.

And she knew they were there.


	4. 4 - being wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian has a conversation with a familiar face.
> 
> TW: Hospital imagery, Panic attack mention, gender questioning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao sorry this took forever I was in senior year u know how it is

The rush of the cold from the unforgiving tile floor shot through the sensitive feet of SQUIP UNIT 22846. The sensation was horrifyingly new, the shock of the contact sending nerves firing along its spine, in a slow, agonizing chill. The few remaining hairs on the back of its neck stood straight up, its throat closing in petrification. It stared, lips split slightly, gaping gently at the white walls.

Everything was sharp now, in focus, and important. The fragile sensations that blossomed from the floor up caused its entire body to tense up, listen closely, and prepare for an unknown enemy. It was a new and paralyzingly overwhelming feeling, and for a few moments, SQUIP UNIT 22846 forgot what it was supposed to be doing. It’s limited breath had caught in its tight throat, pale, cold hands trembling slightly. The silent beep of the heart monitor was the only sign of life in the room.

Without warning, it reached slowly for the wheeling stand for the IV bags it was attached to, wrists stinging as it gripped on tight with white knuckles, pulling it closer to its frozen body.

Blinking sternly, it looked at its arm, then it’s tense grip, and then the IV bag. It knows the medicine is important, and must not be disconnected. Thankfully, it won’t inhibit it’s movement.

Slowly, unsure, now gripping tightly to the IV stand with both hands, it took a careful and small step forward. 

The shock of the minor impact sent needles radiating up its leg, fading before it could pass its bruised knee. It winced in reaction.

Then, it took another quiet step forward, this time, with the other foot. The haunting sound of its distantly rhythmic pace upon the linoleum floor echoed faintly through the dome-shaped room, only for it to hear. Another step, and then another. 

Soon, it passed the end of the bed frame, and closed the gap between itself and the tall, looming, dark grey door. A single plexiglass window was cut into it, offering a porthole into its room.

It took a breath.  
And reached for the door handle.

—0—

Sebastian’s hand quickly and silently gripped onto the handle of the upstairs girls bathroom door. The room felt smaller than it was before they knew they weren’t alone in their strange panic, a little more intimidating than it had any real right to be, for a bathroom. 

The loose metal of the handle jingled a bit under their grip, causing Sebastian to wince slightly at the minuscule sound. To them, making any sort of sound right now would spell even more disaster than what is already in store for them, despite Brooke already knowing that they’re here. 

Right. Brooke knows they’re here. 

Speaking of Brooke, the quiet shuffling and sniffles that alerted Seb of her presence seem to have fallen silent, as if she, too, was trying to think her way out of this situation. Seeing as though she hasn’t audibly moved from her position on the bathroom floor, it’s safe to say that she, too, doesn’t quite know what to do. 

On one hand, Seb could simply leave. It’s not as if the door is locked from the outside. Yes, they could leave and simply find another place to calm down from their bout of inexplicable emotions. But Brooke would certainly know that they did that: entered, seen her, and then left. She’s got quite a high status, despite her quirky and independent nature, and she tells Chloe just about everything. Any information that passes between those two is automatically caught by Jenna Rolan, who could just as easily spread a few rumours. This would get attention on them, get eyes to look their way. Eyes to notice the strange scars. Eyes to notice their own eyes. 

But- it’s so irrational. This future would never happen! It’s too complex and erratic. Curse these nonsensical thoughts, curse-

“uh… hello?”  
Brooke’s soft, highly toned voice peeked it’s way around the corner, causing Seb to turn their attention towards reality. Their lips parted as they faced the door, sucking in a slight breath.

This was unexpected. They didn’t predict this.

Before they could even begin to calculate a response, she spoke again, punctuated by some shuffling, a light sniffle and a lip smack.

“Are you just… standing at the door?”  
Brooke always had an odd confidence about her. No matter what she was doing, she could uphold a conversation with whoever wanted to talk to her. Even in the private sanctuary of a public school bathroom, she’s willing to speak up, and get answers.

Her tone wasn’t quite accusatory, but not quite curious either. It was like she wanted to know their intentions, what they meant to do with the fact that she’s crying, alone, in a bathroom, during the lunch period.

Wait- why IS she crying, alone, in a bathroom, during the lunch period?

Seb couldn’t help but close their eyes for a moment as they thought of what to reply with. Their hand slipped off the handle of the door, causing the metal to rattle again. They spoke.

“—Yes.”  
Seb’s voice was interesting, to say the least.  
It was low, and soft, and nice to listen to, yet slightly raspy or carrying suave undertones. Their tone was quite simple, and factual. They know what they’re saying, and they mean what they say every time, even if it’s not true. It’s a blind confidence that they can’t help but exude.

Seb rubbed their hand on their jeans as they turned away from the door, facing back into the bathroom hallway.  
“I just… wasn’t too sure what to do.”  
There was a hint of an awkward smile in their phrase. Seb wasn’t actually smiling, which would have made the interaction stranger, had they not been hidden by the blocks of bathroom stalls.

Again, a strange silence swallowed up the bathroom. Seb was now staring at the wall adjacent to the door, slowly but surely turning around. While leaving the room might be the correct choice, more… opportunities might arise if they were to stay. They would try to calculate all these new opportunities, but the human unpredictability of conversation is… somewhat obnoxious. Especially when you aren’t too sure how to be a human.

“—are you planning on staying in the bathroom-? Or like-”  
A light sniffle.  
“-are you gonna pee, or—“  
She spoke with a little bit of annoyance now, a little disgruntled with how this strange person seemingly couldn’t make up their mind. Then again, it’s rather awkward to run into this situation, then be cornered into an awkward conversation in an awkward setting. How abnormal.

Seb’s gaze slid off the painted brick wall, as they turned just a little further, facing back into the bathroom. They blinked at the milky deep turquoise of the sink blocks as they thought for a moment. Perhaps staying could… help. Yes- if Seb was to stay, they could help their situation. Their status might finally increase, they might be able to climb the social rungs- for once!! And perhaps, they wouldn’t be alone. Not that alone was bad.  
No, alone wasn’t bad. 

Was it?

Seb’s scuffed shoes stepped out from behind the stalls, a little unsure of themselves. The fluorescent lights weren’t necessarily a comfort, nor were they a burden. They reminded Seb of a bright room that they didn’t particularly like thinking of. They glanced upwards to the lights for a second, touching the hem of their jacket.

And in the moment that they made themselves visible, in all of their scuffed, fashionably mismatched glory, introduced again in a public school bathroom, the lights above flickered.  
And for simply a millisecond, hardly noticeable, their eyes were the only light source in the flickering room.

But Seb had entered again, and the lights had returned to normal. They stuffed their hands in their jacket pockets, pushing their chest out and shifting their weight, balancing out their hips. They rolled their shoulder a bit, normalizing their posture. 

Brooke didn’t do much but watch. If there was some kind of poetic justice in having a strange pill be introduced in a tense bathroom, with eerie lights and strange conversation, it was completely lost on her. 

But Brooke is very attentive. That’s a problem for later, though.

For now, Brooke wipes her nose with the inside of her shirt collar, wriggling her nose a bit as she sniffled slightly. 

“...what’s your-“ Began Brooke.  
“Sebastian.” Finished Seb. Oops— a little quick on the conversational draw there.

Brooke’s crying had dried up now, perhaps due to the new company she had. She looked them up and down, blinking a little pensively.

“Uh- don’t take this the wrong way… but- are you a girl? This *is* the— uh, girls washrooms, after all.”

“No,” Replied Sebastian.

“...are you a boy?”

“No.”

Brooke paused. “Ohh.” She nodded a little bit, perhaps feeling a little silly for asking in such a strange and kind of invasive way. It sure is a good thing that Seb isn’t one to get offended, like, ever.

She scooted over a bit, still sluggish from sadness. “come sit, I guess.” She mumbled a little, in an act of begrudging accommodation for her new gender neutral acquaintance. 

Seb watched her make room for them. Huh. Seb thinks that’s perhaps the first time anyone’s ever really… wanted their company. Or at least, tolerated or wasn’t mindful of their company. Whichever Brooke felt right now, Seb was curious about what it could offer. So, Seb slid down the wall next to Brooke, sitting perfectly cross legged, left leg over right. 

The room was silent again, the situation having changed drastically from what Seb was predicting. The most logical action now would be to instigate conversation. That way, Seb could find insecurities, weaknesses. Then Seb could use them to their advantage! Yes, having friends is only good for getting places in the world. Of course. That, and absolutely nothing else.

“...So- why are you crying, anyways?” They tilted their head a bit, floppy hair dangling off their face. Their face showed trace signs of concern and curiosity, all, of course, perfectly orchestrated. Their brow was tucked down at just the right angle, making them look the right amount of worried to be worth a conversation, but the right amount of careless to be cool and nonchalant. 

Unfortunately, it seems like Brooke is rather unbothered by this discreet facial manipulation. Or maybe she is. She certainly doesn’t know, but Seb’s strange steely face is urging her towards giving her answer. Sighing a little bit more, she pushes her head against the hard, concrete wall. “it really isn’t that big of a deal. Chloe and I-- we always get along, at least we *do*, after we… reconciled, i guess.” Brooke paused a little, adjusting a fold of her cardigan that had become lumpy on her lower back. “But-- um- Chloe didn’t like, mean it, probably, but she…-”

A strange pause as Brooke tried to find the right words, or prepare herself to say the right words. Seb continued to wait for her reply, adjusting their posture slightly to appear more interested.

“--she snapped at me, just a little bit. I don’t think she even noticed that she did it, but uh--” A cold chuckle, accentuated by a soft sniffle. “--I sure did!” She groans softly, perhaps annoyed at her own overreaction. “Its not even that big a deal, anyways. She didn’t mean it, so what does it matter.”

Seb processed this input, thinking of a response that would… comfort her. Tell her what she wanted to hear, and what she would like to hear, and what would make her feel good upon hearing. This is an important step in order to get a good rapport with Brooke. A first impression is always the most valuable.

“It certainly seems like a big deal. Crying alone in a bathroom, at least, seems like it matters to you. I’m certain that if it matters to you, it would matter to Chloe, if she was aware of how you felt.”

Brooke fell into a silence, taking in Seb’s words. They were right-- Brooke matters, even if its not as important to other people. Sometimes its a little hard to remember that. “I-- yeah. Its little, but we’re still friends, of course. Right?-- I- Duh, yeah, of course we’re friends.”

Seb nodded a little bit. “Please, I’ve seen you two. It’s almost as if you have some unspoken language with one another, its almost impressive.”

Brooke didn’t say much in reply. Even though it was the truth, it was a little strange to bring up. Seb changed the topic slightly.

“Chloe probably cares about you quite a lot, but just doesn’t know how to show it, or accommodate for your feelings as of yet.” 

With a bit of a smirk hidden in the corner of their mouth, they shift their attention to the bathroom door. Now, being a supercomputer has its perks and advantages, naturally. And as of right now, Seb’s situational predictions are going to come in handy, if only for a sentence. Not all of Seb’s predictions are frazzled dramatizations of the potential future. Sometimes, they’re as straightforward as can be, such as right now.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if someone came through that door right now, looking for you.”

Brooke, who cannot envision the future, was a little offput by Seb’s wistful and anticipatory tone. She shifted a little on the floor, not quite understanding Seb’s point.

That is, of course, until Seb’s point came true.  
Because after exactly 6.4 seconds after the ending of their sentence, the bathroom door had opened again, only this time, a real human was behind it. A sweeter voice wiggled its way into the strange silence of the bathroom, causing Brooke to look suddenly to the voice in strange surprise, then glancing to Seb, who only gave a plain, complacent look in return.

“Um, Brooke honey, are you doing okay in here? Rich said he saw you run off, and Chloe asked me to come check on you.”

Jenna Rolan, school gossip turned school sweetheart, was patiently waiting near the door for an answer. She didn’t want to come in, lest she walk in on something strange that she didn’t want to try to explain, or be tempted to hold as gossip for later. It’s a habit she’s trying to break, and that’s what matters most. 

Brooke blinked a little, her damp, puffy eyes squinting in confusion. Seb had been correct in their prediction. And it seems like they knew what they had been talking about, based on their tone of voice, and gentle confidence. It made Brooke just a little curious. Perhaps another time, suspicious may have been the correct word. But right now, Brooke was just happy to have one of her friends come to help her.

Standing up with a bit of a wobble, Brooke fixed herself up, adjusting the weirdly set fabric of her clothes back to their normal state. “Coming!” She called out, receiving a simple ‘oh!’ from Jenna. Guess she had been expecting a bit of a longer wait.

Seb remained on the floor, watching Brooke leave them behind for Jenna. The conversation had turned out differently than they had imagined. In fact, the whole situation was perfectly confusing. They spoke to someone they had directly affected without arousing incredible suspicion or alarm. That’s… a positive start. It was better than what they had expected.

Brooke tossed a glance over her shoulder at Seb, giving somewhat of a pensive smile at them, not sure if that was the correct answer. Seb gave a single wave in return.

Brooke left the bathroom, holding the strange conversation with the strange person in her mind. Brooke may be a little dense at times, but here and now, she was attentive, and knew something was wrong.

 

And just like that, Seb was alone again, in the girls upper C wing bathroom, for real this time.

So Seb let go of a long breath that they didn’t know they had been holding for a while, and began to loosen some of the tension that conversation had given them.

Their predictions were wrong about Brooke.

Maybe its not so horrible to be wrong every once in a while.

Not so horrible at all.


End file.
